She hides her pain behind her mask, going through her day as if nothing is wrong. Nevertheless, it is there if you care to look close enough. It weighs her down like a heavy winter coat. At night, at home, she continues to wear her mask even though she really doesn’t need to. The one who has been there all her life, and should be the one person she can’t hide from, doesn’t see her pain. He is too wrapped up in his own pain to trouble himself to see hers. She bides her time, hiding in the dark until she can lie down, take off her mask, and finally give in to the pain. She lays there crying tears no one sees and no one hears, until morning arrives and she once again dons her mask.
Her Mask
